The ramblings of a pilgrim through time, space, and life.

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Spring Break? HA!

This week is our Spring Break. Really? What kind of sick joke is this? Call it by its proper name: Appellate Brief Week.

We don’t have classes this week. Which is really nice. Some time to wind down. Some time to relax. Sleep in a little. Go to school, read and research all day. Feel exhausted. Come home and work on the yard a few hours. Then to sleep. Sounds pretty much like my normal week, except no classes.

Yesterday I spent about 6 hours reading cases and trying to piece some sense into what all the U.S. Court of Appeals make of a ‘True Threat’. In a nutshell, the Supreme Court let loose a case from Virginia a few years back that not only failed to clarify or correct the split in the circuits, it made it worse. Each circuit literally has a slightly different twist on the doctrine of ‘True Threat’.

Anyhow, if the reading wasn’t intense enough, I have been feeling the pangs of age. As I approach 30, my poor left eye just can’t keep up anymore. After reading another 6 hours straight today, I called in on an optometrist. He confirmed my fears, I have eye fatigue. He gave me a nice prescription for a pair of reading glasses. He suggested I wear them while I am reading to help ease the strain on my eyes. He said the eyes were in great shape and healthy, just tired. I now have a pair of glasses! Well, actually, I am going to take Amanda with me probably tomorrow to pick out a pair. I had a pair of glasses in 1997 from all the reading then. But last time I put them on, Amanda laughed so hard she nearly wet her pants. So I didn’t bring them to Oklahoma with me and I doubt she would let me take them to school anyway. I will take her with me so she can make sure I can wear the glasses and still be presentable in public, or at least to stay married to her.

This week I have been attempting to get caught up on some of the spring work in the yard. I have about 3/4 of the yard raked and dethatched. The lawn will be aerated tomorrow. Then I will start planting some grass seed in sections so I can keep up with it and watering. Always more to do.

Monday was Mom’s birthday. I wrote her a letter in response to her last one. I must admit, I am growing a bit weary of the letters. I made sure a few points were clear. One, that people have names and they are to be referred to by their names in the future. I will not allow nicknames, especially derogatory ones. Next, she will have to treat me, our family, and my religion with respect. I clearly manifested to her that I would no longer respond to letters that were not uplifting and building. We will have to see how that one comes down. For 10 years now, I have held the hope of some decency in her letters. I believe I have been more than charitable and willing to look over the abuse that comes in an envelope. I just don’t have the time for it anymore.

My favorite part of the letters is that I am distancing myself from her? What? Trying to reach out and overlooking offense after offense directed at me is distancing myself? I feel like I have been stretching much farther than I should have for a long time. Many individuals have attempted to persuade me to stop writing her. Well, my attempts to bridge a very wide divide are completely unappreciated and apparently unwelcome. From now on, letter writing will be on my terms, or there will be no more letter writing.

This is hard because it is my mother. I grow closer and closer to all the people around me, and others in my family, and yet cannot make up any ground with her. Honestly, I feel like I am walking the road alone. I will expend my efforts somewhere else rather than on a selfish, bitter, arrogant, conceited, unappreciative woman who happens to be my mother. I am reminded of D&C 64, “And ye ought to say in your hearts – let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to thy deeds. We all have to cut off the offending hand at one time or another. I gave the hand a final warning.

Am I wrong? I don’t feel like it. But I am interested in what you think.